


Mrow

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Ficlet, M/M, Starfleet Academy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 17:05:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3075062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim comes home late and snuggles his man-sized cat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mrow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [1cobaltDream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/1cobaltDream/gifts).



> A/N: Fill for tomorrowsdate’s “Jim finds out that Spock purrs” request on [my tumblr](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It’s difficult to navigate Spock’s quarters in the dark, even though they’re kept utterly spotless, but Jim doesn’t want to turn the lights on in case his boyfriend’s sleeping. He uses the light on his communicator to make his way to the bedroom, mildly surprised when he does, in fact, find Spock tucked into bed. It’s probably the first time in their relationship that Spock’s ever been asleep first—as an administrator, he works overtime, even more than Jim, who feels like he’s left studying from dawn to dusk. But tonight was Bones’ birthday, and for the first time since attending the Acadmey, Jim stayed out half the night drinking.

And Spock, apparently, took Jim’s advice not to wait up. He’s tucked under the covers, curled on his side, sleeping soundly with his sleek bangs toppling neatly down his forehead. With his lips slightly parted and his slanted eyebrows lax, he has the rare look of peace, and Jim takes the risk of shining the light over his pale skin for a few extra seconds, just to soak in the view. 

Then Jim has to shove his free hand over his mouth to stifle a yawn, and he knows if he doesn’t get in bed soon, he’ll fall asleep where he stands. 

Spock will kill him, but there’s no use trying to undress and fold and put everything away properly right now, so Jim just wriggles out of his shoes, tugs his shirt over his head, stumbles out of his pants, and leaves it all on the floor. He doesn’t need to borrow pajamas here, though Spock is in a loose v-neck nightgown, because Spock’s quarters are kept Vulcan-hot. Spock often has him wear pajamas anyway, so they don’t get tempted to fool around on a night when they both have classes the next day, but as he’s currently asleep, Jim gets his way. He climbs up from the foot of the bed, reaches the headboard and worms his way beneath the covers, sidling up behind Spock. It’s stiflingly hot, but Jim’s always enjoyed the heat. 

At first, he just tries to settle, cozy up on his own side and sleep, but inevitably, he gives in. he scoots up beside his boyfriend and sneaks his arms around Spock’s long torso, underneath the covers. Spock makes a faint noise, and Jim freezes, worried he’s woken Spock, but then Spock merely adjusts his position and remains quiet. 

Encouraged, Jim hooks his chin over Spock’s shoulder, face burying in Spock’s hair, and he breathes in the muffled remnants of the dormitory’s standard-issue shampoo. Jim can’t resist twisting his legs around Spock’s, weaving them together, permanently entangled. Spock makes another small noise, this time deeper, like in the back of his throat. Maybe a growl. It lingers, long and drawn out, drops and starts again, and Jim pulls one elbow back so he can lift up on it. 

He leans over Spock’s body, tilting his ear towards Spock’ open mouth, and he listens while Spock makes the noise again. It’s unmistakably a purr. 

Blinking through the darkness, Jim stares down, bewildered, at Spock’s handsome, sleeping face, all swamped in shadows, but still something Jim can picture so clearly in his mind. They haven’t been together long, but sometimes he feels like he’s known Spock for ages, and yet... he had no idea that Vulcan’s _purred_.

It’s adorable. Sweet, alluring. It reminds Jim of a barn cat he used to have when he was younger, though if Spock were awake, he’d probably stiffen and insist the noise more like a sehlat. Or rather, that he didn’t make any noise at all. But now Jim has proof, and he’s starting to wish he’d gone out before, come home late before, if only to catch Spock with his guard down, trilling prettily in his sleep. 

But the noises die out while Jim’s watching, and, heavy and begrudging, Jim has to fall back to the mattress. He snuggles right back up to Spock, mostly because it’s always his instinct to be as close to Spock as possible, and he mourns the lost sound. He would’ve liked to fall asleep to that. 

Jim lets out a deep breath, bites back another yawn, and Spock does it again, purrs languidly, a warm, contented noise. Jim can only wonder if it’s because of him, because he’s holding Spock tight, and he can’t stop himself from shifting one hand to lightly stroke Spock’s belly through his nightgown, something like petting an animal. 

Spock twitches against him, leaning back into him, and the purring grows louder, happier, while Jim forces himself not to laugh and kisses his sleeping boyfriend’s shoulder. When he draws his hand back to scratch behind Spock’s elegantly pointed ear, Spock’s legs kick and he whines in the back of his throat: a gorgeous sound. 

Jim almost moans, but yawns instead, unable to stop himself this time, and it pierces the air like a knife. A second passes of Spock shifting.

Then Spock rolls abruptly over in Jim’s arms, twisting the blankets with him. His dark eyes glint through the blackness, and Jim whispers, sleepy and abashed, “Hey.”

Spock replies, “Jim,” in a low, tired voice. 

Jim thinks of explaining himself, of laughing that he didn’t know Vulcans purred, but he knows Spock too well, and he knows Spock wouldn’t like it. So he just kisses Spock’s nose and murmurs, “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“We have class in the morning.”

It’s true, so Jim just nods. He’s grateful when Spock doesn’t dive into a lecture or scold him any further. 

He mostly wants Spock to roll back around and continue with his adorable noises, because Jim’s not sure he’ll ever have the privilege of hearing it again; it now seems an ephemeral, mythical thing. Too bizarre to be real. When Spock shifts, he only moves forward, digging his face into the crook of Jim’s neck, twisting his legs back with Jim’s and slipping one arm loosely around Jim’s bare waist. His stale breath ghosts over Jim’s skin, tingling and cool. 

This time, Jim falls asleep first, dreaming of a cat-eared Spock nuzzling with him in a bed with white fur lining.


End file.
